Easy to be Hard
by Writing Ficariously
Summary: Behind every war is a story and behind every story are the people who shape the intricacies of relationships and failures. In a time when brothers and sisters, friends and lovers find themselves at odds because of an overseas war, six individuals learn that the world is not always black and white. AH. Full summary & pairings inside.


**Oh, hello. It's nice to see you all again. I realize it's been quite some time, but if anyone is still out there, waiting, thanks and I hope you enjoy this start to a brand new story.**

 _Stephenie Meyer owns all Twilight characters. Thank you to **ooza** for quick beta work, and Kaia, Sara, & Jess for the pre-read. In the end, all mistakes are mine._

* * *

 **Easy to Be Hard**

Behind every war is a story and behind every story are the people who shape the intricacies of relationships and failures. In a time when brothers and sisters, friends and lovers find themselves at odds because of an overseas war, six individuals learn that the world is not always black and white.

Bella believes in free love. Edward coasts through life. Alice takes a stand for her beliefs. Jasper dreams of fighting for his country. Rosalie lives her life the way others expect. Emmett tries to understand. Despite their differences, they soon realize that everyone is part of the same world.

Bella/Edward – Rosalie/Edward – Alice/Jasper – Rosalie/Emmett  
Also includes other non-canon pairings in brief mentions.

* * *

 **PROLOGUE  
** **39 Whitehall Street**

There was always a crowd outside 39 Whitehall Street in New York City.

The building, located in downtown Manhattan, stood tall and proud. A line wrapped around it, starting at the front door and snaking down the sidewalk where it curved around the corner. Men stood in a single file, some with a determined gleam in their eyes, others with a nervous curiosity. All of them held a small, rectangular piece of parchment that bore a name and a summons. Quiet conversation battled with the light wind as men nodded to each other as a way to alleviate the thick tension in the air.

Across the street was a crowd entirely different from the straight-backed, mostly-proud men filtering into the building. Men and women, adults and children, people of all ages, shapes, races, and religions stood together in solidarity behind steel barricades and wooden police bars. Words of love and peace rang out in the burning heat amongst the pleas directed towards the men across the street to take a stand, to return home.

At the corner of Whitehall and Pearl stood two girls. They held hands as their stomachs pressed against the barricades. One of them was a young woman with long brown hair with thin ribbons tied in. Her body shivered with fear and excitement as she stood with people she loved, people she called family. Her eyes scanned the line of men, searching for the one person she hoped to never find in the area.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, breaking her search, distracting her. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw the tanned face of an old friend; he smiled at her but his eyes held a sadness as he stared at her, knowing why she was more distracted than usual at today's protest. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the smooth skin of her cheek, just barely tasting the strawberry-flavored lip-gloss from the corner of her mouth. She gave him a small smile and he leaned down next to her to do the same to her friend.

"Bella," her friend called her name lowly but urgently in the middle of the small kiss being bestowed on her cheek. Their hands tightened around each other's almost painfully as the two girls caught sight of two young men who had just the corner into view.

"I know," she murmured.

Her heart sped up. She wasn't sure if she should call out the name that threatened to spill from her lips or hide herself in the crowd. She could see him looking through the crowd across the street from the Army Induction Center, and she couldn't help but stand perfectly still when his eyes landed on her. Her breathing sped up and she untangled her hand from her friend's to bring it up to her hair, self-consciously touching the tiny row of daisies she had threaded into a braid at her temple.

He had always told her how much he loved fresh flowers in her hair.

The color drained from the man's face and his mouth moved, lips pressing together for a moment before Bella saw the slightest hint of his tongue. He was saying her name; she knew it. When he froze, the man next to him stopped and stared at him, before turning and following his gaze. His face hardened at the sight of not only her, but also the petite woman standing next to Bella, who had suddenly paled. For a moment, the quartet was frozen in time, two sides of a dividing line that threatened to break the fragility of their world.

A loud yell startled all four of them and Bella was the first to break eye contact. Around her, the crowd screamed and shouted louder, growing more rambunctious by the second. She watched as two police officers pulled someone from behind the barricade and threw him on the ground. Protests rose, and more people jumped over the wooden bars to both push the officers away and help the man.

Suddenly, fights were erupting along the streets. Cars that had been making their way slowly through the streets honked at the disruptions, causing more chaos. Shouts of "Get back!" and "Free Love!" and "Hell no, we won't go!" echoed loudly. Even the men waiting in line were breaking away to join in the commotion.

Remembering a promise she had made to her parents and cousin the night before, Bella found a break in the barricades and slid through the small space, trying to find a way to escape the crowd that was steadily getting angrier. A hand grasped her upper arm and she gasped loudly at the rough hold. A man in uniform was yelling something at her but she couldn't hear over the roar of sounds around her. Blunt fingernails dug into her skin, but he held tight.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the young man from earlier frown at her situation, his eyebrows drawing close together in anger. He pulled away from the line, from his friend who was trying to hold him back, and she could see him fighting his way toward her. Her eyes widened in both fear and relief. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, but the hold on her arm was still too tight.

He reached for her at the same moment she twisted away from the officer's grip, ignoring the pain that laced down her arm. The second their hands met, a current sparked between their palms and he pulled her in close, attempting to shield her from any more harm, attempting to keep her safe. She said his name into his chest and his grip tightened as he fought against the crowd to leave the area.

A loud _boom_ sounded and the shouts became shrill screams. Down the street, marching lines of police officers moved closer, and Bella could see the gas masks on their faces. A hissing sound filled the air, and everyone scattered, protestors trying to run toward the park, and the line of men around 39 Whitehall Street ran into neighboring buildings and small alleys on the east side.

" _Run_ ," he said forcefully to her, sliding his arm away from her. " _Go!_ "

"Come with me," she pleaded. Her voice was urgent, begging, and he was reminded of another plea from recent nights. He couldn't give in to her then and he couldn't give in to her now. She tried again. "Edward, _please_."

" _Go_ ," he insisted. The police were coming closer and Edward could see his friend – arm up to shield his mouth and nose – waving him over frantically. He pushed Bella away from him, toward the park across the street where he could already see discarded signs and trampled flowers. "I'll find you, I promise."

"Edward."

He reached out to her, running his fingers down her face. Both of their eyes watered from the gas filling the air. "I promise, Bella."

Though her heart ached at the idea of leaving him, Bella nodded and turned, running as fast as she could from the mess around her. With one last glance behind her, she hoped he kept his promise and would be able to find her.

* * *

 **Well, there you have it. One prologue of a new story. Let me know what you think!**

 **If you'd like more, I have donated the first 5 chapters of this story to the Babies at the Border Fiction Compilation. If you don't want to wait until December to continue reading, all you have to do is donate to one of the following charities by Friday, 10/5/18, and forward your receipt to babiesattheborder-at-gmail-dot-com.**

 **ACLU** \- fighting attacks through the legal system  
 **Kids In Need of Defense (KIND)** \- protecting unaccompanied children who enter the US immigration system alone to ensure that no child appears in court without an attorney  
 **Human Rights First** \- helping refugees obtain asylum in the U.S.  
 **Innovation Law Lab** \- working in immigrant detention centers and hostile judicial districts; keeping the definitive list of kids being held.  
 **The Young Center for Immigrant Children's Rights** \- promoting the best interests of unaccompanied immigrant children.

 **For more information, search "Babies at the Border Fiction Compilation" on Facebook or visit their blog – babiesattheborder-dot-blogspot-dot-com**


End file.
